Termination
by Hollowshirosaki413
Summary: Shirosaki Hichigo was a notoriously known troublmaking in Japan's most dangerous prison. He was known by many - and Ichigo Kurosaki was one of 'em. Shirosaki didn't know why Ichigo suddenly appeared in his prison because of the "Terminator", and he didn't know if it was good or bad yet, but he did know one thing - Ichi was a hot piece of ass that he would get his hands on.


Well, hello there...*Sheepishly backs up and hides from all the glares* I-I'm kind of alive...? And yes, I'm back for the time being. It's been a super long time since I've even thought about updating anything Bleach related, but then again, here I am. I love you all...? x3

Anyway, yes, I'll be updating my stories again. I don't know how often - some may take months to update - because I'm more or less focusing on more of my Doctor Who and Sherlock fanfics right now, but I am here, and my GrimmIchi\HichiIchi love is kind of coming back, slowly but surely.

So hello there again. This can be considered as a Thank-You-For-Not-Killing-Me-As-Much-As-You-Did-When-You-Figured-Out-I-Was-Leaving present, and I hope you like the progression of this new story! x3

Termination

_Chapter One: A New Relation_

~oOo~

_Third Person POV _

Shirosaki Ogichi Hichigo was a man of many things; a hero, a killer, a missile freak and what's most commonly known around the East Coast, a psychopath. For those who have had the chance to glance at him – maybe through the bars of the jail cell or wandering around the outside rimming of the basketball court – more or less realize that he was, as legend says, a scientific experimentation that had previously been in the hands of Szayel Apollo.

If his image didn't speak for himself already – his reputation clearly had that covered. Shirosaki had the skin that would put an albino to shame; the pure whiteness, almost as bright as the first mid-winter's snow, the hair that every silver strand would flicker in either the moonlight or sun and even in the darkness. However, even that wasn't the most shocking attribute to the albino's physical appearance – it was the eyes of pure, unyielding yellow surrounded by a sclera of obsidian that had come from years upon years of testing and altering and reconfiguring.

Hichigo was, by no means, a sane being. Some called him by different name from different legends – Snow White, Insanity, Destruction, The Pale One, and his personal favorite – Terminator. The pink-haired scientist that had tested on him had implanted injections upon metal plats upon automatic weapons upon other things – and well, it had taken more of a toll than anyone had ever imagined. His chest alone, under the thin layer of albino skin he was coated with, held sixteen metal plates to protect the vital points of his survival – his spine and neck were literally lined with the sheet of protection from top to bottom as well.

Shirosaki thought of himself as insane, yes. He would tell anyone and everyone around him that he was dangerous – that he could kill and really not care about the person afterwards. That was true. What he would never admit to anyone else, though, was the fact that all his childhood years of being stationed inside a tiny bubble had left him to feel only a few things – loneliness, depression, and anger. Sometimes lust, as well.

He would deny that he himself was even _close _to a psychopath. He was simply just smart and he never learned any of the basic human emotions – how could he, living in the world that he did? Even the coldest of coldest criminals didn't hold a candle to his burning flame of fury.

However that all changed – Shirosaki's past, his present, and his future when he met the man named Ichigo Kurosaki.

~0Oo~

_~ November 23, 2016. 12:35 P.M – East Coast Penitentiary. Corridor 72._

"Oi man, _se dirige nuestro camino_."

"_Coger, dar vuelta a sus cabezas."_

Shirosaki listened to the miscellaneous murmurs that traveled around the concrete bindings of the courtyard, his eyes narrowed and dangerous and ready to strike at any moment in time. Most thought that different languages when communicating led to the fact that Hichigo couldn't understand their lingo – oh, how wrong they were. However, he couldn't bring himself to care. He guessed they had rights to be afraid; ha, how they squeal like little girls even when they're the worst of worst villains to their society today.

Word was going around that there was a new kid coming to the Center. Hichigo had picked this up amongst the jargon being thrown around – and he was sort of interested as to whom it may be. There were a few people talking about how scary the man was, and then there were the ones who said the kid was so puny even the tiniest inmate in the Penitentiary could crush them. The albino was kind of curious as to whom this person may be; there weren't a lot of people coming around these days.

Shirosaki sighed and glanced up at the sun with an annoyed glare – why did that stupid thing have to be so bright? What the hell would it symbolize? Nothing, that's what. Brightness, security, and happiness had nothing to do with his world and therefore it didn't mean anything to him. A deep breath relinquished from the lips of Shirosaki, and, with a quick lasting glare up at the ray of brightness that was beating down on him, the albino decided to go back inside.

If there was one weakness that Shirosaki had being an albino, it would, more or less, be the sunlight.

That factor sometimes pissed him off, he had to say. It constantly labored him and when he wanted to go outside and get away from the grey walls that he was constantly surrounded with, he found that he couldn't – because of the sun. But whatever, he could last a few minutes, and a few minutes was all he needed.

When Shirosaki got back inside, the first thing he noticed was the Security section bustling around like a herd of buffalo trying to escape from a hunter. Had someone escaped? The thought wasn't unmanageable; a lot of people try to escape from the stupid idiots who really didn't know how to 'secure', and they always succeeded. But then again, if someone had been missing, wouldn't have word gone around that there was going to be a break out?

And there was nothing – _nothing _– that went around and Hichigo didn't hear about.

So, the only plausible answer could be the new kid. A jitter of excitement ran through Hichigo's ice cold veins. "Keh, prolly a fuckin' twinkie, that's wha'…." The albino said absentmindedly as he sat down in the nearest relaxing chair he could find. Well, not relaxing, because it felt worse than concrete with needles sticking out of the bottom, but more so getting off his feet just to think for a little while.

Hichigo could feel the tiny bits of metal inside of him move as he sat down; his thighs, chest, and upper arms were laced with the hard cold metallic substance. Maybe, even, in places he didn't even know about. It wasn't like he was awake for any of it and he didn't trust whatever the hell kind of nonsense spouted out of the scientist's mouth. After all, they were most likely lying half of the time anyway.

What was the kid's name, anyway? Hichigo had heard it once or twice.

Ichiru…?

Ichiho?

Ichino?

Something with Ichi, Shirosaki was sure. Well, from now on whether the guy liked it or not he was Ichi – number one. The last name he had no fucking clue about. Regardless, though, the fact that the Security was running around all over the place signaled the fact that this Ichi guy was probably headed this way.

What would he look like? Maybe a six foot five bulked up man with excessive facial and chest hair. Maybe a dark, secretive, musky man that would give anyone's ass handed to them and not care. Maybe he was tiny, like some people said. Or, perhaps, he was mediocre sized and was a professional assassin. Could he have black hair? Brown hair? Blue eyes? Green eyes? The possibilities roaming inside Hichigo's head were endless. Maybe the kid as extremely ugly, like half, if not most, of the people in the Center. What if he was some sort of expert computer geek who got into the wrong hands?

For sure, he would be dead within a day. Not by the hands of Shirosaki, of course, but by the other wimpy assholes who thought they really were something. It's not that the albino despised the fact that they were like that – hell, most jails were – but it did get annoying from time to time. It was just….

_They had no skill._

_Whatsoever._

Hichigo's own tapping foot brought him out of his musings, and without much work, the albino glanced down to see that his foot was bouncing at a rapid pace. Usually, to people, that was just a simple instinct; maybe they were bored at the time or maybe they were ticked off, but with Hichigo it was always because he was overly anxious. A lot of times the albino was deadly still, waiting, pondering, listening to whatever was around him. In a place like this it would do anyone good not to let anyone's guard down, especially during their 'free moments'.

The white-haired adult frowned and let his eyes narrow slightly as descending steps came towards Hall Route III entrance, and, with a straightened back and a mask of lazy features, Hichigo drew his gaze towards the wooden-plated metal doors. A beeping sound, loud and broad, echoed off the metallic and concrete walls, making Shirosaki and a few other inmates turn their heads towards the scene before them.

He could hear them advance. Step, by step, by step. Usually signs of struggle were heard with a Newbie, but, well, it didn't seem like it was happening. Apart from the miscellaneous chatter and the feet pressing to the ground, there were no sounds. The albino held his breath. Maybe….Maybe it was too much to get all worked up over. Shirosaki commonly did this when there was a new kid; people thought it was to scare them but in reality, he was just observing them. Seeing how much of a pain they will be, actually.

The sound of footsteps stopped and from under the crack of the door, Hichigo saw the shadow of….Eight feet? Four people? One would have to be the inmate, but why were there three people escorting this man? Was he like, Hercules or something?

The sound of the door clicking again sent Hichigo's gaze to flicker to the bulletproof glass that kept the Security station safe. They, too, were high-strung and staring at the now opening door, which is why the albino turned and cocked his head to the side in wonder. This was odd.

When the large door was completely open, Hichigo could see three large guards easily. However, Hichigo could barely make out the figure that stood in the back of the huge monstrosities, apart from two legs and an arm. As other inmates turned to glance at what was going on, pausing in their poker games for smuggles cigarettes or whatever, the person stepped out from behind the men.

Hichigo was shocked, to say in the least. The man was small and innocent-looking, actually, with large whiskey brown eyes and a tuft of vibrant _orange _hair that sent the albino to do a double take. Bright, _orange _hair? What the hell? It matched the outfit, for god's sake! It was spiked all over, leaving no individual strand to stay in one spot, and the bangs that the kid had almost overwhelmed the eyes that the other had.

His body was thin and frail, but tough-looking, in a way. People whispered around Hichigo and a few catcalled, making the orange-haired man frown and glare in their direction. Cold eyes, that was what Hichigo saw. Cold, and murderous, and truly _delicious. _This was certainly a turn of events.

Another shocking thing to the albino was the fact that Newbie looked _exactly like him. _Narrowed, thin face, jawbones strong and protruding from the face, no facial hair whatsoever. His hair was similar to Hichigo's, apart from the fact that his was ghostly silver and the other bright. It was like….Someone dumped a ray of colour on him. Tanned skin only fit for perfection, long, lean legs that quite possibly had any and every man drooling in their place – yeah, it was safe to say Hichigo was beyond shocked.

And when those cold, daring eyes met his….Oh god, the _shivers. _Shirosaki was immediately taken – he had to know this man. He had to. There was no doubt about it. Questions started pooling inside of the albinos frame just then – why was he here? What did he do? Where did he come from? Did he know how to fight? What was with the stare? It seemed as if Ichigo's eyes as soon as he saw the other, which was quite strange. Hichigo was usually underestimated, yes, but the fact that he was colder than a glacier in Antarctica was the quickest thing that warded people away from him.

This man didn't look scared at all.

A loud voice boomed from the over-speaker just then. "_Ichigo Kurosaki, inmate 02715. Play nice, boys." _The taunting creepy old man grinned from behind the glass. Hichigo forced back a snarl as a couple more catcalls were heard from some of the men sitting around, and, for once, Hichigo stood to greet the kid.

The three guards moved out of the way, a little bit shocked that the _Terminator _would stand to attention at a simple new kid. Ichigo, however, smirked lightly and inclined his head in notion as the albino walked forward. Hichigo caught it. It was slight, a shift of feet, showing Hichigo that the other was on guard at all times. He knew because he did the exact same thing. Common criminals were just too stupid to pick it up, though. But not him.

_Damn, this kid was good._

"Terminator, kid. Welcome ta tha' club." Shirosaki spoke with a grin, cocking his head to the sigh at the indication of a threat.

Ichigo, instead of showing that he was gauging the others strength, grinned and replied to Hichigo in a nonchalant tone. "Thanks for the warm welcome, _Insanity_." The orangette stepped forward and extended his hand in a formal gesture. Shirosaki accepted it and gripped the appendage with a lot more force than was necessary. The albino was shocked to find that the orangette had known what he was – sure, he had quite the reputation inside and outside of his world, but the chances were low for Ichigo to have known about him.

However, Hichigo simply smirked and pulled away, his eyes never leaving the molten brown ones that seemed to hold him to the spot he was in. "Oi, kid –…." One of the guards suddenly said, but the albino cut him off before he could say anything.

"I'll show 'em 'round, kay? So back the hell off." Terminator had said, knowing the general routine about what was going one.

One of the guards, not the one who had spoken, frowned and raised a big, bushy brown eyebrow. He turned to Ichigo. "Your funeral, hot stuff." He replied with a smirk. The last guard only shook his head and turned to walk away, his two large friends following him not seconds later. The orangette shook his head and turned to look at Insanity.

"So, show me around, huh? You don't usually do things like that, do you." Ichigo made small talk with the albino, hoping to tick him off slightly with his words.

Shirosaki whistled and lifted his hand in a half-assed wave. "Ya seem ta kno' a lotta 'bout me, kid." He spoke with a curious tone as he gave the orangette a once over – again. Ichigo watched his gaze with his own curious one – but for a different reason, he was sure.

"I do." Ichigo spoke mysteriously. "And you will know why in good time." He said, fighting off a grin at the albino's even more curious stare.

"So, I'm guessin' I got myself a lackie in 'ere?"

"I'm no lackie to anyone, Shi. Think of me as a….Friend." Ichigo slowly stated, his drawl more or less making Hichigo a little uncomfortable in his own skin. The albino was a tad bit impressed, he had to admit. By now Ichigo should be groveling at his feet in forgiveness for even thinking about speaking to the albino in such a way, but the orangette was just standing there, totally relaxed yet totally on guard.

"I dun usually bang my friends." Hichigo replied without a thought. The orangette rolled his eyes.

"Oh, yeah. Forgot you were quite the flirt." Ichigo murmured as he cocked his head to the side. "Sorry, but you're not getting into my pants for a long while." He told the other off with a flick of his wrist, causing Hichigo to laugh with a giant, ear-splitting smirk on his face. He had to admit, he liked the kid a lot more than he probably should. At least, now, there was something interesting in this god-forsaken place. Everything was dull and colourless, but Hichigo had a feeling that with the orange-haired spitfire he wouldn't be bored for a long time.

"Keh, readin' up on meh are ya?" Shirosaki said more to himself than Ichigo. "Alrigh' then, tell me, ya 'ere ta kill me?"

Ichigo threw his head back and laughed without another notion. Hichigo couldn't help but raise a delicate white eyebrow, a little bit in amusement and a little bit in question. "Oh, no, no. Definitely not. I'm here to tell you the truth about your bloodline….Just not so soon." The orangette went from speaking with a mirthful tone to whispering the last bit, which made the albino less comfortable than he was before. A death, he could deal with. His bloodline? He didn't really want to know.

"An' why not?" Hichigo questioned Ichigo as the orangette went around him to go sit on one of the less-than comfortable plastic chairs upon an empty table. Hichigo followed and sat opposite from where the orange-haired man had sat.

"I have my reasons." Ichigo said secretively. "So, how is it here?" He asked Hichigo like it was the most normal thing in the world. Shirosaki relaxed and snorted, throwing his hands up to rest behind his head, leaning back in the chair to get a better look at the speaker. After a second or so, he shook his head and instead leaned in, propping his hand up under his chin to give the orangette a level stare. Ichigo didn't move from his cross-legged, cross-armed position.

"Ya kno' yer hair matches the outfit, don't'cha? It's pretty damned funny." Kurosaki stared blankly at Hichigo, but the albino could clearly see the look of annoyance – a fire lighting inside of Ichigo's eyes – that Shirosaki couldn't wait to devour. "Well, what'cha think? It's funny of half-witted numb-skulls and 'bad boys' who haven't done anythin' but juvenile acts. Pisses me off."

Ichigo laughed at that. "I see." He said after a moment's pause, leveling Hichigo with another scrutinizing gaze.

"Mmhm. So, what'cha in fer?" Hichigo knew he had to dig up as much dirt as the other had to get to know anything about him – it seemed as if the orange-haired stranger already knew about his life – at lot more than he knew, anyway. And that could either be very, very good….Or very, very bad.

Ichigo scratched the back of his head then and switched from a confident gaze to a timid one, and Hichigo almost had to squeak in adorableness as Ichigo blushed and turned to stare out the window, avoiding his gaze. "A few odds and ends. I slipped up, and they caught me." Ichigo shrugged and mumbled.

"Ah, ashamed are we?" Hichigo chuckled. "Dun worry, everyone slips up. God knows I did."

Ichigo nodded slowly and turned back to look at the albino man, his lips twitched a bit. "Yeah, you did." He said after a moment's hesitation, and Shirosaki narrowed his eyes in wait. He wondered, just then, if Ichigo knew a lot more than he led on – because that's what it was sounding like right about then. "I do a lot of things. Hacking is my most common, but I do a couple assassinations from here to there and a couple weapon-crafting jobs. Sometimes I'm hired for torturing, but that really isn't my thing and I almost always decline those. Unless I know them personally, of course."

Shirosaki barked out another laughed and leaded back again, crossing his arms over his chest. "All around the map, aren't ya?" Insanity shook his head and let the wheels roll around relentlessly inside of his mind. "So, wha' didja slip up on?" He questioned Ichigo, his obsidian eyes narrowed in slight confusion. Ichigo blushed again.

"I had a friend that knew a friend that knew a friend that knew who I assassinated. They weren't friends with my target, of course, but they also knew who I was and knew the signs of me being there. All it took was a few phone calls." Ichigo grumbled out, still pissed off that, yes, the story was slightly true – apart from the fact the slip-up was on purpose to get inside of the Penitentiary. Stupid Kisuke and his fucked up plans. He better get him out of here.

Hichigo nodded, his brow furrowing slightly at the story that had lack of detail. Most of the time the inmates would be avid about explaining how they got there – how they were legitimately apparently so 'badass' that, y'know, beating up some asshole or carving their eyes out is seriously really macho man and everything. Shirosaki didn't understand that actually, but what he did know was that this Ichigo was expertly trained in retaining information.

So yeah, that also was either really, really good, or really, really bad.

Hichigo inclined his head to the basketball court to watch some of the inmates run around while thinking about the newbie. The guy was a mystery, much like he was, and that was a pretty big compliment coming out of his thoughts. That also meant he was dangerous, though. The fact that Ichigo held all of the knowledge, well, that gave the orangette a great advantage. And he wasn't sure he was prepared for what the other knew.

Although he would have to be. It wasn't like he had much of a choice in the Penitentiary.

Shirosaki had a feeling something was going to happen. Something big. It wasn't like people like Ichigo got caught on a daily basis – he wasn't that stupid to slip up like that.

But that also left one question.

Why had Ichigo come?


End file.
